Livianna
It was a big deal.
I didn't care how many times Roderick tried to feed me that bullshit about it not being a big deal; it was a big deal.
Meeting the family always was, right?
It was the basis of a ton of rom-coms.
There was always the jittery heroine being comforted by the hero who assured her that his family was going to love her, all the while the lying bastard knew damn well his parents wanted him to marry the girl next door with the twinkling laugh and not the uptight career-focused chick he actually fell for.
It was supposed to be hilarity that ensued, but it always made me feel squirmy and uncomfortable.
Now, that was fiction.
This was real life.
So that feeling was amplified by like a million, making me feel jittery and sweaty even though the compound was kept at a temperature Cam would approve of.
"Relax, mami. I promise my family isn't going to put you in the hot seat or anything. They know better."
"Because I am a criminal," I shot back, big-eyeing my reflection in the bathroom mirror while he sat off the edge of the bed like this dinner was not some giant test to our budding relationship.
"So?"
"So," I said, popping my head out into the bedroom. "I really doubt that your mother dreamed about you settling down with a woman who breaks the law for a living."
"Livvy, I break the law for a living," he reminded me unnecessarily.
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because they already love you," I told him, sighing as I decided that this outfit - my third one - wasn't going to work either. It was too casual. You didn't go to meet your boyfriend's mother wearing jeans and a plain long-sleeve tee. That was for when you knew them and they knew you and no one gave a shit anymore. I didn't want to go there looking like I didn't give a shit. That was not the right vibe to bring to this dinner.
"You're overthinking this."
"Am I? How do you know? How many women have you brought home to meet your mother?" I asked, nodding when he shook his head. "Exactly."
"My sisters have brought men home to meet her."
"Guys are different," I insisted, only realizing I was pacing when Roderick's hands shot out to grab me, pull me down on his lap.
"Yeah, because they don't give themselves ulcers over shit like this. My mom is going to like you. My sisters will too."
All five of them.
I had six people to try to impress.
That was a lot of pressure, the kind I wasn't used to. I never needed to try to impress anyone before.
"The club loves you," he reminded me as his hand started to rub reassuringly up and down my spine.
He had a point.
Over the past few days it seemed the word of me had made it through the grapevine, making all the members pop in to meet me.
Cash was there the next day, him and Cyrus giving me a bit of light and sweet among all the somewhat dark and serious that was Roan, Edison, Reeve, Lazarus, and Renny who - I got the feeling - was trying to suss me out. Roderick said it was a habit of his, trying to figure out what made people tick, why they did the things they did, what motivated them. It was a game for him. One he often took too seriously. So to beat him at it, I just gave him my story, leaving out the abundance of detail I had given Roderick, but giving him enough that he stopped looking at me like he wanted to poke at me until I combusted.
Not long after he showed up, so did Lo with a teenaged girl trailing behind her.
And I saw it in her.
The way I had seen it in Astrid.
The damage.
But also the potential.
And after only five minutes of talking with Lo, I realized she was just the person to take that potential, pull it to the surface, make it shine.
I'd briefly met Jstorm - whose reputation I knew because Astrid knew it - and her man Wolf who, in some ways, reminded me of Cam, making me miss him so much that it ached. We hadn't been apart this long since we had met all those years before. It was strange to be away from my people. I couldn't help but wonder if the sink was overflowing, if the mail had been picked up from the box, if anyone had remembered to drop the check for the rent in the mail.
But Astrid called. And always assured me that everything was okay even if mama was out of town.
She would probably tell me the same thing Roderick was, that I was overthinking this. that I should just be myself and if they don't like me, to hell with them.
Normally that would be my response. But I couldn't say to hell with his mother and sisters - these women who meant the world to him.
I needed them to at least like me enough to accept me. Because, quite frankly, they probably had a lot of pull in Roderick's life. Their opinions likely meant a lot to him. I didn't know what that would mean for me - for us - if they just put their feet down and said they all hated me.
"Let me up. I have to get changed real quick. I don't want to be late," I told him, giving him a quick peck to the lips to try to soften the somewhat harsh tone to my voice. Nervousness, apparently, made me a bit snippy. It was interesting the things you learned about yourself when in a new relationship. It wasn't all pretty, but they were all parts of me that I maybe never would have gotten to know if not for him.
I dug through my bag, finding the long A-line sage green skirt Astrid had packed for me for some reason, dragging out a white tank top and sweater she had as well, deciding it toed that line between casual and trying too hard perfectly.
I had just wiggled out of my pants, leaving me there in my bra and panties when Roderick moved into the bathroom, giving my reflection a small smile as he moved behind me.
"You're practically twitching," he informed me as though I couldn't feel that about myself. "I know how to calm you down, mami," he declared, fingers hooking my panties, dragging them down over my ass.
"We don't have time to..."
"To help you relax so you don't have a panic attack on my mother's doorstep for no reason? We do. We have the time," he told me even as his finger traced up my slit, making a tremble move through me, my body so overwrought that it was overly sensitive to every slight brush.
"Wet already," his voice rumbled through his chest as his finger pressed inside me, making a slow, deep breath escape me, all thoughts of worry washing away under the growing anticipation, pleasure, the promise of oblivion. "You want more, mami?" he asked, lips on my earlobe before his teeth sank in a bit, making my ass slam back into him, begging for more.
"Yes." My voice sounded choked, desperate.
"Yes, what? What do you want?"
"Quiero que estés dentro de mi."
I want you inside me.
A growl moved through him at that, a sound that made my sex tighten.
I didn't - as he did - slip into Spanish often. Likely because, unlike him, I didn't have people around me, people close to me who spoke it. So while I occasionally used it when talking to a client or some random person at a store or restaurant, it wasn't something that came so naturally to me anymore.
But, apparently, given his reaction, it was something I should utilize more with him in bed.
Because the second the words were out of my lips, he had somehow freed his cock and slammed it deep inside me.
My arm went back around his neck as his arm anchored around my belly, both of us holding on, both of us knowing there would be nothing slow or soft or sweet about this. We were both too desperate for it, too far gone to try to make it last. We just wanted to find oblivion together as quickly as possible.
And so we did, both of us watching each other's reflection in the mirror as the orgasms slammed through our systems, stealing the air from our lungs, the sound from our throats, both of us coming oddly silently save for a hiss of breath, a sharp exhale.
He slid out of me slowly, pressing a kiss to my neck before moving away, grabbing a washcloth, cleaning us both off before sliding my panties back up my thighs, settling them over my ass.
"We're late," I declared, looking down at my cell on the edge of the sink.
"And yet you aren't freaking out about it," he told me, giving my ass a small pat before moving off so I could finish getting ready.
All said and done, we were twenty minutes late, walking up past a driveway full of cars, hearing raised voices even as we walked up the front path of the bungalow Roderick had bought for his mother, a thought that made my heart swell in my chest a bit.
A good man.
That was what he was.
A good fucking man.
Cam aside, I had all but forgotten that they existed.
But they did.
He did.
And his hand slipped down to lace into mine as his hand reached for the handle.
Seeming to sense my surprise, he gave me a small smile. "It's not my house, but it will always be home," he explained a concept I didn't understand myself. "You don't ring the bell at home," he added, bringing out hands up to press a kiss to the back of mine.
I took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly as the door pushed open, as the voices inside came to a deafening silence, all heads swiveling in our direction.
Roderick had told me a lot about his sisters, about their ages, interests, talents, jobs.
He had left out one little thing about them.
They were all just stupidly, unnecessarily gorgeous. Which was no surprise because standing in the middle of them all was an older woman - their mother - and she was just as stunning.
They all had Roderick's perfect caramel skin, his inky black hair. Some had eyes as dark as his, others a lighter almost hazel brown that his mother seemed to possess. And as soon as their gazes fell on us, their smiles curved up in a very familiar way, all white teeth and, yep, dimples.
Christ.
It was like a goddamn beauty pageant in this house. Only there would never be a winner since each woman was as pretty as the last.
"Oh, mija," his mother declared, moving forward, arms outstretched, hands going up to frame my face. "I'm so happy you could make it."
And because Astrid had texted me about just being myself, the next words out of my lips were not as practiced, as refined as maybe would have been more proper.
"I don't believe there was much of a choice."
I could feel the smile freezing and falling as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but his mother's smile only widened as her hand patted my cheek.
"There wasn't," she agreed. "We knew as soon as we heard that Roderick - of all people - had himself a woman that we had to meet this creature that could make him see there is more to life than screwing around."
"And that is my mother for you," Roderick told me, giving my hand a squeeze. "Livvy, this is my mom, Grace. Mom, this is Livianna."
"It's so nice to meet you," his mom said, throwing her arms around me.
"You too," I agreed, realizing as she patted my back how long it had been since I had felt a hug from a maternal figure.
"Okay, okay, so... we have Mia and Zoe," Grace said, waving at the twins who were nearly identical except for the fact that Zoe had a nose ring. I wondered if maybe she got it for the sole purpose of it distinguishing her from her sister. "And here is Ana," she went on, waving to the middle sister who was curvier than all her other sisters. "Then there is Elisa over there by the couch. And that is Leala over there by the window," she concluded, and I couldn't help but seek out the scar on her forehead.
"So, we hear you're a gun runner," Mia declared into a somewhat awkward silence following the introductions.
"Mia!" Zoe hissed, big eyeing her elder by a few minutes sister.
"What? We're just getting it all out there, right? This will be a hell of a lot less tense if we are just up front about everything. Liv is an arms dealer who stole from Roderick to create the sweetest little criminal meet-cute ever."
"Yes, the mauling was so damn sweet, Mia," Roderick drawled, shaking his head.
"Oh, wah wah wah. You healed just fine," Mia shot back, rolling her eyes. "He always was a bit dramatic, you know."
"Dramatic?" Roderick asked, but was drowned out by Elisa.
"And a sore loser," she added.
"Hey..." Roderick started.
"I know, right?" Leala chimed in. "He once overturned the entire Monopoly board."
"Because I found out all of you were scheming to cheat behind my back!"
"Oh, and he has like some kind of moral objection to family movie night."
"You all talk through the entire fucking movie," Roderick objected, only to be slapped on the back of the head by his mother.
"Language," she hissed at him. "Liv, cariña, would you like to help me in the kitchen? I suspect a fight any moment now," she added as voiced started getting raised.
I followed her through the living room and into the kitchen, the whole space maybe only as big as my bathroom with sage green painted cabinets and cupboards, a simple tile countertop, and very new appliances.
How she managed to cook for her whole family in such a small space was beyond me.
But she did manage. Because there were platters scattered everywhere, some loaded down already, others empty, waiting to hold whatever was in the pots on the stove and cooking inside it.
"You'll get used to the noise," Grace promised as she pulled the lid off a pot, puffs of steam rising up. "This is the mother's version of a luxury facial," she told me as she poked something inside with the tip of a sharp knife.
"Having six kids must have been deafening at times."
"Oh, mija, you have no idea. I used to stay up late at night even after working a double shift just to enjoy the quiet when they slept. Do you have any siblings?"
"No," I told her, shaking my head, feeling a bit of envy for her large, crazy family whose voices were loud in the other room, five sisters ganging up on their only brother.
"Not a happy home?" she asked, not caring that she was pressing. And maybe that was another mom thing. I wouldn't really know personally.
"No. There wasn't any joy that I remember. My mother passed when I was six. After that, all that was left was my father and me. And he... he had a lot of rules. And a lot of punishments for breaking even the most minor of them."
"Men," she sighed, shaking her head. "The world needs more good ones, yes?"
"You gave the world a good one," I told her, meaning it. Camden aside, and maybe Vas, I had never met any men I would genuinely call good. Like through and through, not just on the surface, not just enough to trick you into trusting them only to use that trust against you at some later time. "It's almost a shame you didn't have more."
"Six. Six is a lot," she told me as she went into the fridge. "So you like my Roderick?"
"I do," I told her because it was the truth, because I had no intentions of playing down what was between us again. A little more time with him only proved what I had been suspecting all along. Something was between us, something big, different, maybe even a little scary, but only in the way that any big, important thing in your life had the potential to really hurt you - either intentionally or not. "He's one of the best men I've ever met," I added.
"He takes such good care of us. He won't hear me say that. He doesn't like the praise. But he does. Not just me, this house, these fancy appliances he got me for mother's day. But all his sisters as well. It doesn't matter what time of day it is, if there is some big party over at his clubhouse, if he just came back from, being on the road for a week, if any one of those girls needs anything, he is there for them. I think he thinks it is his place to be the father since, well, I assume you know that story."
"He told me," I agreed.
"He feels responsible for all of us. I think... I think it is why he has been such a..."
"Manwhore?" I supplied, shrugging it off, knowing his history, knowing it meant nothing, said nothing about his future.
"Yes. That. I think he likes his brotherhood because it is a break. He gets to just be a young man, carefree." She paused, shaking her head. "And maybe he likes a break from all the estrogen."
"He doesn't have it much better there. Most of his brothers have wives or girlfriends. There are women everywhere. Though, to be honest, he doesn't mind it. He really loves women. He seems to sort of view them all as extended family, like a whole other group of sisters."
"The poor guy," she told me with twinkling eyes. "I hear you have some loved ones. Anytime you want, you can bring your family here. I have a feeling your family will be our family sooner rather than later anyway."
I liked how easily she accepted the fact that they were my family even though, technically, they weren't. Everything about Grace seemed welcoming, open-armed, a quality I had never come across before. Except maybe in her son.
"They are all the way in the city."
"Yes, I heard about that. Distance, that can be difficult, no?"
"I honestly don't know. I've never tried it before."
She nodded at that, going into one of the pots to start scooping peas into a bowl.
"Do you like Navesink Bank?"
She wanted to know if I would be taking her son away from her.
Honestly, there had never been any question of that. His club was in Navesink Bank. If things got serious between us, I would have to be the one to relocate since I had nothing keeping me in one place. My people aside. But Astrid had made it clear through her many text messages showing me screenshots of local Navesink Bank attractions, eateries, and real estate that she was perfectly on board with moving if things with Roderick and I progressed.
As for Cam, I didn't know. I hadn't had time to debate it all out with him before I left. And, the little snippet of conversation he'd graced me with aside, he hadn't changed his ways suddenly according to Astrid who claimed he was still about his looks and grunts.
It was a conversation I wanted to have. Because even though I was over-the-moon at the idea that Astrid was all in this with me no matter what it meant change-wise for her future, I couldn't picture my life without Camden in it. I didn't want to imagine him leaving us, going off on his own. I had to have him with me. No number of new friends could ever fill a Cam-shaped void in my heart.
So I needed to know where his head was at.
But that was something that needed to be done in person and, quite frankly, I wasn't ready to go back yet.
Getting more time with Roderick only made me want more time with him.
I wanted to sit around the common areas, bullshitting with his friends, learning all their inside jokes, meeting the rest of their women. I wanted to fall into his bed, enjoying each other until our bodies gave up on us, then fall asleep in his arms, getting the luxury of full nights of sleep that I could only have with his arms around me, his body beneath mine.
I wanted to wait out the rest of the cold months with him then take a trip to the beach when the summer got hot. I hadn't been able to spend much time lounging on beaches in my adulthood, and the idea of doing them with him - especially with how much he loved it there - made me giddy as a kid on Christmas Eve.
"Do you want children, Liv?" Grace asked, point-blank, as Roderick warned me she would.
"I do," I told her honestly. "I wasn't ever sure it was something I could have. With my lifestyle, y'know? But I would like kids."
"You would have to retire, no? To be a mother."
"I guess that would likely be true. Safety hasn't exactly been guaranteed in my line of work," I told her, waving to the scar on my face.
"Oh, that. Don't let that make you feel insecure, mija. I have more than my fair share as well. It is interesting, no, how life only etches the bad times on our skin. There is no proof of the smiles, the laughter, the dreams fulfilled, just the pain."
"Maybe that's the point of tattoos," I said, shrugging. "Unfortunately, I am not some modern-day rapper. Face tattoos wouldn't work for me."
"You have other scars, yes?" she asked, watching me hard, her expression unreadable.
"Yes."
"Maybe you and me, one day, we go and get something happy etched over the pain."
"I could design them," Ana suggested from the doorway, making me wonder how long she had been standing there. Grace, however, didn't seem the least bit distressed. I would imagine with six children, she had long ago given up the idea of privacy, even in her own home.
"I saw your art on Roderick's walls in his room. You're amazing."
"He has my art up?" she asked, eyes brightening at the idea that her big brother thought they were good enough, the look of joy something precious on her face.
"You've never been to the compound?"
"No," Grace and her daughter said in unison.
"Seriously? None of you?" I asked, looking over at Roderick as he moved into the doorway with his sister, his giant frame making her have to move forward or else be crushed.
"None of them what?"
"Have ever been to the compound," I told him, shaking my head. "Why not? Don't they have parties and such in the summer? Family parties?" I specified, knowing he would never want to have his sisters around the whiskey and clubwhore sort of parties.
"Is this true?" Grace asked, brows raising, eyes shooting accusations at him.
"You're ganging up on me too, huh, mami?" Roderick asked, moving into the room to haul me into his side, his arm crushing down on my shoulders.
"Well, it seemed like the thing to do. You know... to fit in," I told him, smiling. "I already swore a blood oath to Mia to start painting your nails in your sleep."
"Oh my God, seriously?" Leala asked, coming into the small space. "You tell people about that? Did you also tell her about how I kept my baby blanket until I was twelve?"
"Nope. But you just did," he informed her, smiling big, all dimples.
They all had them.
Dimples.
Even his mother.
Some had two like he did, others just the one. Some were etched deep like his, others more of a hint like mine.
"Mija, do you cook?" Grace asked, tuning out her children's bickering.
"I do," I agreed, nodding.
"Yeah?" Roderick asked, looking down at me."I was starting to think all those pots and pans in the loft were for decoration."
"Says the man who only knows how to make scrambled eggs," I shot back.
"Hey blame that on Elisa," Mia declared, somehow squeezing into the tiny space as well. "For a whole year, all she would eat was scrambled eggs and strawberries. Roderick got good at making them when Mom had to work."
I liked this.
More than I ever thought I could.
Learning the deeper meanings behind some of the more surface things I knew about Roderick. Would he maybe, someday, have gotten around to telling me about Elisa and her scrambled eggs? Maybe. Or maybe it would have been one of those little things lost to the back of his mind.
I was enjoying hearing all the little things his sisters had to say about him, all the good and bad. And the bad, well, none of it was necessarily bad, and they only seemed to bring it up to fuck with him because they could, because he was quick to tease them as well.
"What are you doing?" I asked when we all finally sat down at a giant dining room table set up in what was meant to be the family room, but had to be the dining room because it was the only space big enough to fit the farmhouse table with room for all of Grace's family and extra space that she called her hopeful seats - one for each of her children to have for a significant other, and Roderick pulled his phone out of his pocket. Knowing how Grace had slapped Ana's knuckles with a wooden spoon when she went to reach for her own, I figured cell phones were a no-no at Grace's table.
"Astrid sent me a picture of the three bags of chips she is having for dinner," he told me. "I wanted to..."
"Shove this in her face?" I supplied, smiling because I liked their weird brother-sister relationship, the way the two liked to fuck with each other.
"Exactly," he agreed, snapping a picture of his over-full plate because his mother claimed that the giant wall of muscle was 'getting too thin' as she scooped his portions out.
"I need New Years Eve elastic band pants," I told him as I looked at my own plate, looking like two servings of my Christmas dinner at once. And I got the distinct feeling that Grace wouldn't hear of me not finishing it.
"And you need to leave room for dessert," Roderick told me, giving my thigh a squeeze.
"Next time, you bring your friends," Grace demanded. "No one should be eating chips for dinner on New Years Eve," she declared, clucking her tongue.
"Astrid would love this," I told her, knowing she would be grumbling when she looked at the picture.
"Maybe for Easter then," she suggested, sounding almost like the issue was settled already.
And I found I liked that.
Her confidence.
Her certainty.
If there was anyone who knew Roderick, it was his mother. And if she thought he was serious about me, that I would be around months from then, well, then, it seemed likely that it would come to pass.
I chanced a look at Roderick's profile, realizing how much I wanted that. To sit here at this very table with these women, with Astrid and Cam, and this man.
Sensing my inspection, Roderick's face turned, giving me a warm smile. "You ready for this, mami?"
Yes, yes I was.